Название: Hand-Picked Husband
Автор: HEATHER MACALLISTER
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn:
isbn:
There was a general nodding of heads, then everyone got sappy smiles on their faces and Autumn knew Clay was in the vicinity.
Go away, she thought.
Wonder of wonders, he passed by without speaking to her. But then she had to endure the curious looks. Holding up her packet, she explained, “We’ve got a bet going on who can raise the most money. Now, how much can I put you down for, Mr. Perry?”
FACSIMILE
To: Nellie Barnett, Golden B Ranch
From: Debra Reese, Reese Ranch
Nellie, dear, were you aware that Autumn and Clay are not on the same committee? From what she said, I don’t think he asked her. She hasn’t mentioned the Buyers’ Ball. Even though I know Clay will take her, it would be nice if he observed the proprieties and asked her. We don’t want any misunderstandings.
Deb
FAX
To: Debra Reese, R. Ranch
From: Nellie Barnett, Golden B
Debra, dearest, Clay couldn’t very well ask Autumn to be on his committee when she’d already formed her own. And by the way, she could have asked him to be on hers.
Nel
During the next two weeks, Autumn and her committee contacted the businesses of San Antonio. So did Clay. He got larger donations but not as many. Autumn’s strategy was to go for more modest amounts from smaller companies, like local beauty parlors and dress shops, but that meant she had to sign up more of them.
“Mom, I think we’ve asked every business in San Antonio,” Autumn groaned. “And Clay’s group is still ahead.” She leafed through the newspaper at breakfast on the Saturday they were due to meet for a progress report. Maybe there was someplace they’d missed.
Debra looked up from the section of paper she was reading. “Autumn., have you considered... maybe not trying so hard to beat Clay?”
Autumn nearly gagged on her coffee. “Are you saying I should let him win?”
“No! Not let him win.” Debra looked away. “Just don’t beat him.”
Which was the same thing. “Forget it.”
“A man has his pride.”
“And what have I got?”
Debra raised an eyebrow. “Not a man, at this point.”
Autumn raised the paper. “So?”
There was a sigh. “Autumn, you don’t encourage him at all. Anybody but Clay would think you weren’t interested in him. Even though you have an understanding, you shouldn’t take him for granted.”
It would do no good to tell her mother that she wasn’t interested in Clay. “He hasn’t encouraged me. I think he’s not interested.”
“Don’t be silly.” Debra also retreated behind her newspaper. “He waited all this time for you.”
“Yes, I heard about those women he brought home while he was waiting.”
“Well, dear, he is a very attractive man. You can’t expect—”
“Mom?” Autumn broke in, changing the subject. “Have you ever heard of the Yellow Rose Matchmakers? It’s a dating agency.” She’d spotted a discreet advertisement with a rose-vine border next to the wedding announcements. She must have missed it before because she usually avoided reading them.
“A dating agency? No...wait. I’ll bet that’s Willie Eden’s business. She and her grandson own it. Why?”
Autumn folded the newspaper, gulped down the last of her coffee and grabbed her purse. “Because I haven’t asked them for a contribution yet.” She glanced at her watch. “If I hurry, I can stop by and still make the meeting on time.”
URGENT FACSIMILE
To: N. Barnett
From: D. Reese
Nellie! Autumn thinks Clay isn’t interested in her! I tried to convince her otherwise, but I’ve got to tell you, Clay inviting that woman down at Thanksgiving didn’t make it easy.
Debra, I keep telling you that Kristin is just an old school friend who now knows life as a ranch wife wouldn’t suit her. Stop worrying.
N.
CHAPTER TWO
FACSIMILE
To: N. Barnett, Golden B
From: D. Reese, Reese Ranch
How can I stop wonying? They haven’t seen each other for two weeks. Autumn is on her way over to Yellow Rose—remember that nice lady we met and her grandson?
Debra
FAX
To: D. Reese, Reese Ranch
From: N. Barnett, Golden B
I’ve put a bug in Clay’ s ear .
Nellie
IT WAS a lovely mid-January day, cool enough so she could wear her new red suede jacket, and dry with a clear blue sky. Autumn drove through town, avoiding the tourists lining up to tour the Alamo, and entered an older residential area of San Antonio.
Yellow Rose Matchmakers was located at 10 Bluebonnet Drive, in a charming Victorian house painted yellow with white trim. A white picket fence surrounded the yard, making an old-fashioned statement among the unfenced neighboring yards.
Autumn parked her black Ford Bronco on the street next to a mailbox hand-painted with yellow roses, then went to push open the gate. Something about the act of stepping through the gate and latching it behind her made Autumn feel as though she had stepped into another time.
She’d climbed the porch steps and rung the doorbell before she stopped to consider that it was still fairly early on a Saturday morning and the agency might not be open yet, or even at all. She was just about to turn away when a shadow appeared behind the frosted-glass door and it swung open.
“It’s about time, Hector. Just because you’re my cousin’s son doesn’t mean—you’re not Hector.”
“No. Sorry.”
The СКАЧАТЬ